Apparently, my kitchen is a day spa.
I’ve just learned that Cool Whip and mayonnaise can double as excellent hair conditioners, and for that final rinse, use Lipton tea or Budweiser beer for extra shine. And if you’re in the mood for a self-inflicted manicure, Pam cooking spray will dry those nails in seconds.
My source also tells me that Jello can be used to freshen up smelly feet (okay, I have a little trouble getting my mind around that one) and that if you go to your “everything” drawer and grab some Elmer’s glue, you’ve got the makings of a facial. You just schmear it on, let it dry, and peel it off. (I used to do that as a kid, making pretend I was hideously sunburned.)
These are all excellent ideas and much more wallet-friendly than similar services in the Hills (the Beverly ones). I’d be tempted to try this stuff, to spruce myself up before my daughter’s high school graduation next week, but I know what would happen. I’d be in mid-treatment and the doorbell would ring. I’d have to open the door; it’d be the UPS guy with Nora’s graduation gift.
I can see the thought bubble above his head: “W.T.F?” There I’d be with mayo in my hair, Elmer’s on my face, Jello in my shoes, Pam in one hand, Budweiser in the other. I’d put the Bud down to sign for the package. His thought bubble would change: “Obvious party animal.”
“Oh, ha ha,” I’d protest, “it’s not what you think, ha ha! I’m just going to pour that on my head!”
Then I would have to miss Nora’s graduation, due to the straightjacket, so I think I’ll skip the kitchen spa and just, you know, head for the Hills.